Trenton Murder Mystery
by Michiganlex
Summary: Follows The Indispensable Tank. Joe, Stephanie and Tank track a serial killer. Most of this story was written in late 2002. Rating is for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: Lex**

**Title: Trenton Murder Mystery**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Notes: Joe, Stephanie and Tank track a serial killer. Most of this story was written in late 2002. **

**Trenton Murder Mystery**

**Chapter 1:**

Mitchie Morelli leaned back on the barstool and stretched her back before taking another sip of beer. It felt like she'd been sitting for hours. This was her bachelorette party and she realized that she should be happy but it felt like a wake. She remembered Jerry's words to her as she'd waited for her best friend and cousin, Roxie, to pick her up. He'd been watching something on television. She couldn't even remember what now.

_"Are you coming home tonight, Michelle?"_ he asked. He was the only one who called her Michelle, all of her friends called her Mitchie but Jerry felt that the name was undignified. "Who says you have to be dignified?" Roxie had asked when she'd told her. Jerry says I have to be, Mitchie thought. She gotten used to not saying things just because they crossed her mind.

_"No,"_ she'd said smiling. "_I'm gonna stay with Roxie. You can't see me before the wedding, remember." _

_"You be careful,"_ Jerry had advised. _"I don't trust Roxie to take care of you. After we're married we're going to have to have a talk about her."_ Mitchie knew what "talk" meant. This could well be her last night with Roxie. She'd sighed heavily and Jerry had shot her a look.

_"Remember, Michelle. No one loves you like I do."_ No one loves her like he does and no one ever will. She thought. She took another sip of her beer. If only she'd said something sooner she wouldn't have to go through with this now. She was trapped. The wedding was tomorrow. There were refunds that would not be refunded if she canceled. Her mother would be so disappointed and might never forgive her. This was how men were, she thought, and at least he loved her. Mitchie's attention was diverted when Roxie stumbled drunkenly onto the barstool next to her.

"Oh my god, Mitchie, I can't believe that you're actually going through with this!" Roxie squealed hugging her best friend. Mitchie had watched Roxie's predictable move from one beer and dirty dancing with the masked stripper to alcohol soaked memories of the teen years that made them both cry. Her last night as a free woman, someone had said. Live it up.

Mitchie had never been the kind of person to live it up but she had tried her best and, in the end, she'd had fun. She'd been raised in a good Catholic home with her stable Burg family. She had never been impulsive about anything in her life and though she was about to embark on the next chapter in her adventure she ached to see the world and run through fields with no shoes on. Jerry would never approve of going outside without shoes. "You'd pick something up," he would say. Mitchie wondered briefly if maybe she shouldn't find a field before walking down the aisle and giving her whole life to Jerry. The realization that she would probably never make another decision for herself, no matter how minor flashed through her mind. She turned her attention to Roxie and pasted a smile on her face.

"I thought that you liked Jerry," Mitchie said teasingly knowing that Roxie couldn't stand him. "And here you are trying to talk me out of marrying him. You really wanted to win that bet bad, didn't you? You're gonna pay up, kid." Mitchie stabbed her finger in the air at Roxie. She watched as Roxie's expression changed from tears to laughter as she remembered the bet that they'd made that Roxie would marry first.

"We'd better work hard at remember how much the bet was for." Roxie said laughing. "It's gonna be different, Mitchie," she said sobering. "It's not gonna be the same with us." She started to cry again. Mitchie almost joined in the self pity. If only Roxie knew how different, she thought sympathetically.

"What's going on here?" Mitchie turned to see her Uncle Joe's, wife approaching them. Stephanie Morelli jangled the bowl filled with keys that she was carrying. "You girls need to lighten up. Marriage is not the end of the world. It's just the end of your sex life." Mitchie laughed hollowly. If only her aunt knew. Death would be no change. Roxie's eyes widened.

"Kidding," Stephanie said. She handed the bowl to Mitchie. "I've arranged for rides for everyone with some friends of mine. They're big and bad ex-Army guys so they're double teaming in the cars for their own protection. Can't have them manhandled by a bunch of drunk women. I didn't do any car assignments you can just stumble out to whatever car you want. They're all black Broncos. Boring but reliable." Stephanie hugged Mitchie and Mitchie's eyes filled with tears. She felt as though she'd been crying all night.

"I really appreciate..." she paused. "Everything, Steph. I owe you a lot."

"Nothing a decent aunt wouldn't do," Steph said. "Not that I'm old enough to be your aunt." She hugged Mitchie again. "It's going to be great, Mitch." She sighed heavily in Stephanie's arms. Stephanie pushed her back so that she could see her face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"It's nothing, Steph, really. Cold feet," she explained smiling half heartedly. Stephanie cupped her chin in her hand.

"You just remember, Mitch, if this is not what you want you can back out. No one would hold it against you," Stephanie stared into Mitchie's eyes but the uncertainty remained. If only Steph knew how many people would hold it against her.

"Thanks, Steph. No, this is what I want. I'll be there tomorrow. Look for me. I'll bet he one in white." Stephanie smiled broadly.

"Do you want me to grab someone to drive the two of you home? You're staying with Roxie, right?" Stephanie asked. Mitchie shook her head.

"Thanks, Steph, but I think I'll walk. It's not far and this was nice but I kind of have a headache and I'd like to clear my head and hear myself think." Steph nodded understandingly.

"You do what you have to do," she said meaningfully.

"I will," Mitchie hugged her again. She looked around for Roxie to let her know that she was walking but Roxie had wandered off. She shrugged and grabbed her purse. Roxie was too drunk to worry about what had happened to her friend and would probably collapse the minute she got home. Mitchie smiled as she saw a well built man lift her Aunt Steph's Grandma into one of the Broncos. She shook her head and laughed. The table dancing must have worn Grandma Mazur out. Maybe it was running around asking the waiters about their packages that had done it. Whatever it was, Grandma Mazur was out for the count. She'd have to tell Roxie if she was awake when she got home. She knew that Roxie would think that Grandma Mazur was playing passed out so that she could be carried by a hot guy. Who could blame her.

Mitchie followed the street until it came to the corner of McCoy, Roxie's street. Roxie lived in an apartment building halfway up the street. Mitchie turned and thought she saw something move in a alley next to Pinos. Rats. Trenton was full of them. She'd heard stories about rats in the kitchen in Pinos but she chose to believe that a kitchen that could put out food that breathtakingly wonderful probably looked like heaven on earth with fountains and white geese and works of art hanging free on non existent walls. Nothing short of their own Pied Piper would make the damn things go away and Mitchie had a phobia. She made her way over as far as she could to walk on the curb. No rats were going to get near her. She kept her eyes straight ahead not daring the look down the alley as she passed it.

She heard a swift movement behind her and started to move faster when she was pulled back. The movement was quick and efficient and gave her no room to scream. By the time she might have recovered enough to shout for help it was impossible. Her head had been removed cleanly in one knife stroke from her body. Her assailant dropped something on the body and then melted into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Joe Morelli rubbed his face as he stared at two crime scene photos depicting two very different woman who shared a common bond in having suffered the same death. Their heads were hanging loose from the bodies only held on by the vertebrae. Blood colored the ground like vibrant paint. There was something surreal about the bodies. Joe had been sitting at his desk at Trenton PD just waiting for the photos to speak to him...for the women to call to him...something. He was missing something vital, he could feel it. He didn't hear Eddie Gazarra come up behind him and jumped when Eddie's hand hit his shoulder.

"Shit, Eddie," he said. "Don't sneak up like that."

"You're working too hard, Joey," Eddie said placing a styrofoam cup filled with what looked like sludge in front of Joe. "It's after 11. Steph's gonna be home from the bachelorette party soon. Maybe you want to go home and get ready for her. It's not every day the wife comes home liquored up." Joe laughed. Eddie was a very close childhood friend of his wife's and was married to her cousin.

"Just assume that I just hit you with a shockingly intelligent comeback because that setup isn't even worth the effort." He glanced at the clock. "There's something I'm missing here, Eddie." He said tossing the pictures back on the desk. Eddie glanced at them and winced.

"Your lunch?" he asked. Joe chuckled.

"You're a big bad cop. It's not everyday you see a head almost completely severed but come on. A little respect, please," Joe advised hitting his shoulder. "You're right, though. Now that I'm a respectably married man if I want to get lucky I should get home before Steph passes out. No eating at the all night diners anymore, if you know what I mean." Eddie flashed a smile and nodded though he didn't. He'd been with Shirley since high school and hadn't enjoyed the sexual carousel that Joe obviously had. Eddie smiled again as he watched Joe leave. That carousel stopped when Joe and Steph had met again when she'd first become a bounty hunter and he was her first case. Joe hadn't looked at anyone else since then.

Eddie took another look at the pictures and shivered. Bad news. He'd have to call Shirley and make sure she locked up now that there was a serial killer loose in Trenton.

Joe was sitting at the table in the small dining room area. He had the reports of the murders of two young women spread out in front of him. Joe could sense that there had been more...somewhere else. He'd called around but hadn't gotten any positive responses. He looked down at Bob, the big golden retriever who was passed out on the floor next to him.

"I'm missing something, Bob. It's there in plain sight and I can't see it. Help me out here, pal." Bob rolled onto his back and offered his belly for scratching. Joe laughed.

"You always know what to say, don't you?" he said before giving in and scratching Bob's belly.

He heard a car pull up in front of his house and smiled as he saw Stephanie jump out of the Bronco and then turn back to say something to an illuminated Khari. Joe watched as she threw her head back and the memory of her laugh echoed through him. He unlocked the door and made his way to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He was headed back to the entryway when he heard the door opening.

"Hey, Cupcake, how was the party?" Joe opened the water and handed it to her. Through trial and error he'd found the best way to get her to drink water after she'd been out drinking was to meet her at the door.

"Oh thanks," Stephanie said taking the water. "My mouth feels like I've been sucking on sweatsocks." She downed half the bottle in one gulp and then tilted her head at him. "What are you still doing up?"

"I just got home and I've been going over some things," He followed her up the stairs. "How's Mitchie?"

"Nervous," Stephanie said as she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Joe watched her for a moment and then moved slowly to pick up the shirt. He dropped the shirt into the hamper. "Maybe I'm just seeing things that aren't there but I think she's marrying Jerry because she thinks she should. I see the same look in her eye that I had the night before I married Dickie." she turned to Joe, handing him her pants. They'd only been married for about a year but it was habit for him now to pick up her clothes as she dropped them. He put the pants in the hamper and then sat on the bed.

"Hard to believe that she's old enough to get married. She's 20 now?" Joe shook his head. "People have to live their own lives, Cupcake, but it's hard to watch mistakes so obvious. Jerry's my age. I know what he sees in her but what does she see in him?" Stephanie shrugged.

"Maybe tomorrow morning I'll go over to Roxie's and feel her out again. I don't doubt that whatever I say she's gonna be Mrs. Jerry Gimelli tomorrow night. It's worth a shot." Stephanie jumped behind Joe on the bed and started massaging his shoulders. "Damn, you're tense." Joe turned and smiled at her.

"You wanna do something about that, Mrs. Morelli?" Stephanie smiled broadly and shoved Joe back on the bed.

"I'm no expert but I'll try my best."

The ringing phone woke Joe the next morning.

"'Lo," he said groggily. Stephanie sat up next to him. He listened for a moment and then his head fell to his hand. "Shit. Oh God. Shit."

"What is it?" Stephanie asked alarmed as Joe got out of bed and started pulling on his clothes.

"It's Mitchie," Joe said seriously. "She's dead." He hugged Stephanie with one arm as she cried softly. Joe felt like throwing something. He wanted to hurt something or someone or maybe himself. She'd been so young.

Mitchie's body had been found when Anthony Pino had taken out the trash upon arrival at his restaurant. It may not have been discovered all day had Geno remembered to take the trash out the night before. Rats surrounded Mitchie's head and had nibbled at her skin. Anthony had thrown up near the dumpster careful not to contaminate the crime scene.

Dr. Aziza Houdra, a forensic pathologist, knelt next to the body. Her rich brown hair had been pulled back and wrapped in the cord from the filter mask that she was wearing. Joe Morelli knelt next to her. They had met previously on another murder case.

"What do you think, Doctor?" Joe asked.

"Same as the others," she confirmed. "Cut back to the vertebrae. One motion. A sharp solid blade. One movement. Probably done from the back. Jack the Ripper style without the ripping afterward. Besides which there was this." she held up an oblong crystal bead. "Dropped into the gap where the head pulls away from the body. Just like the others."

"Shit," Joe said turning away from the body. Aziza stood up and walked over to him.

"It's always hard to look at," she said. "Someone so young and pretty. No one should die like this. He's doing it the same way every time. She's his third victim?" Joe nodded. "One of the uniforms told me that this is your niece. My condolences. I want you to know, Joe, she didn't suffer. She probably only had a moment of fear before it was all over."

"Thank you," Joe said. "That means a lot." Aziza looked closely at him.

"This isn't your fault, Joe. You weren't the one with the knife at her throat. You couldn't have stopped it," she said.

"My brain knows that but the rest of me isn't convinced. There's something screaming at me about this. Something that I'm too close to see." He turned to her. Azizia shrugged as she pulled her rubber gloves off. "You'll be getting some distance now. Who should I send the report to?"

"What?" Joe asked surprised.

"You're going to be off the case now, right? Should I just send my report to the captain?" Aziza asked. She stopped and stared at him for a moment, "You know that there's no way they're going to let you to continue with the case now that you're related to a victim."

"I hadn't really thought that far," Joe admitted. "Shit."

"Fuck, I'm gonna have to keep attention away from that fact for the moment. I was planning to get the staff profiler involved but I can't even go there now. Shit." Joe paused desperately trying to think through things. He could only think of one man who had what he needed to help and wouldn't report him to the captain. He took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking. "I'm gonna bring Khari in. He's a fresh viewpoint. If nothing else we can give him what we have and he'll come to the same conclusions." Aziza sighed heavily.

In the past Aziza had briefly been involved with Khari Kaplan, known as Tank on the street. He was the acting head of Rangemen, a mercenary operation specializing in government ops, since his boss' untimely demise. He and Aziza had come to the realization after one date that their viewpoints on gun control differed. They'd parted ways and avoided each other when possible. An easy task as Aziza spent most of her time with dead bodies and Tank's blood ran cold and vision swam at the thought of them.

"You can work with him?" Joe asked. He knew nothing of their relationship, only that they'd parted.

"I don't have any problems working with him. He might have some problems working with this," she said waving her hand in the direction of the crime scene.

"We'll work them out," Joe said pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He called Steph and she gave him Khari's cell phone number.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The blue and silver wrapped box mocked Stephanie each time she passed the credenza.. Right about now her niece, Michelle Morelli, would have been heading for the church to get ready to walk down the aisle. Unless there had been some horrible mistake, the wedding was not going to take place. Though Stephanie had not heard from Joe since he'd gotten the early morning phone call that Mitchie had been found murdered, everyone knew everyone else in the Burg so a false identification was unlikely. Stephanie continued to pace the length of her office. She hadn't planned to come in to work today but what else was there to do? She couldn't just sit at home. The phone rang and she raced to it hoping that it was Joe calling to say that the early morning police call had all been a sick joke and that she needed to get ready for the wedding.

"Hello?" she asked breathlessly.

"Stephanie? It's your mother." she bit back a retort that her mother might not have appreciated. The older woman sounded tired.

"I recognize your voice," Stephanie replied, "I guess you heard."

"Isn't it terrible!" Ellen Plum exclaimed, "Louisa Gimelli called to let me know that the wedding is off. Can you believe it? Mary-Elizabeth Brown said that you'd called for cars to take everyone home? Now why would Michelle want to walk by herself?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Mom, maybe she wanted to have some quiet time to think," Stephanie suggested. Despite hours of pondering that very question, she had not been able to come up with a better answer.

"You're probably right," her mother agreed, shocking the heck out of Stephanie, "Marriage is a big step." There was a pause, "Are you planning to take a dish around to Jerry? I could make something for you..."

"I honestly haven't thought that far ahead," Stephanie made a mental note to run by the Italian deli after leaving the office. Joe would want to be with his family tonight. Just as she thought of him, the man himself walked in to her office. Stephanie watched her husband round the desk. She almost missed her mother's comment. She caught it just in time.

"I don't plan on poisoning anyone. I don't plan to cook anything. I can stop at the Italian deli. Mom, please do not make a dish for me," she blew out an exasperated sigh. Joe walked straight for her and wrapped his arms around her waist, "I have to go. Joe just walked in."

"You be sure to take something around. I won't have anyone thinking..." Stephanie stopped her mother's diatribe.

"I'll stop by the Italian deli when I leave here, Mom," she assured the older woman before returning the handset to the cradle. Stephanie wrapped her arms around her husband and they held each other silently for several minutes.

"You okay, Joe?" Stephanie asked tentatively. Joe stepped back.

"I've been better," he said.

"It was her?" Stephanie knew by the way Joe bowed his head as she asked the question that there was no doubt of the identity of the corpse. She pulled her husband closer.

"How horrible. Why? Why Mitchie? What had she ever done?" Stephanie asked, emotions warring and bubbling inside of her.

"She hadn't done anything, Cupcake. Life doesn't work on a point system. As much as we might wish it did sometimes," Joe said softly.

"She was so young, Joe. Who would do this to her?"

"I don't know, Cupcake, but I'm going to find out," Joe promised.

Khari "Tank" Kaplan was surprised when Joe Morelli called him asking for help on a case. The two had met nearly a year earlier when they'd teamed up to investigate the brutal murder of Khari's boss, Ranger Manoso. They'd been friendly but Khari hadn't really heard from the police detective again...until today. The surprise that he'd experienced when Joe had called paled in comparison to the shock he'd felt when Dr. Aziza Houdra walked into his office. Aziza worked in the local coroners office as a forensic pathologist. She'd been the pathologist who had worked on Ranger's corpse and they'd met when Khari had been forced to go to her office to identify the body. He couldn't think of a single thing to say. He simply stared at her. She hadn't changed. Her wispy dark hair framed her perfect face. She was dressed in an icy blue business suit that made her caramel toned skin glow. They'd had one ill-fated date months before where they'd discovered a critical difference in their gun control beliefs. Still, he'd never been able to shake the feeling that what might have been would have been great.

"Khari," Aziza said softly, breaking the spell. He jumped to his feet.

"S-sit down," he offered, "Can I get you anything. This is sure a surprise." She slipped gracefully into a chair. Khari admired that. At 6'6" he didn't do a damn thing that didn't make him look like an ox let loose in a doll house.

"No, thanks. I'm okay," Aziza demurred, "I just wanted to bring you the reports and pictures from the serial killings."

"Reports? Pictures?" Khari cringed as he parroted her words.

"Yes, Joe called you?" Aziza asked. She waited for Khari to nod, "I just wanted to bring them by personally to make sure that you're okay. You know they're of..." she paused.

"Dead bodies," Khari finished for her, his stomach rolling.

"Yea," she said, smiling slightly.

"I'll be fine. I can pretend that they're pictures of actors. They're not real," Khari couldn't seem to stop himself from rambling as Aziza set the pictures in front of him. He glanced at them, "They're..." he began before reaching for the trash can and emptying the contents of his stomach. Aziza went to his side and smoothed a cool hand over bowed head and neck.

"I know your phobia and I know how extreme it is, maybe..." Khari stopped her before she could finish the thought. He knew what she was going to say but if he was honestly going to help out he was going to have to brave the evidence. Didn't stop the cold sweat from pouring off his brow but it did help to calm him a little. These weren't real dead bodies in the pictures. They were actors they...he glanced at the pictures again and snapped his eyes shut. He was big, he was tough, he had been managing Rangeman since the boss' death, he could handle this. He looked again. The shaky feeling had calmed he could do this.

"I'm okay now," he informed Aziza. She smiled at him and brushed her lips over his brow.

"I know you can do this," she whispered, "If you need anything at all give me a call and I'll do what I can to help."

"Appreciated," Khari said, forcing a smile. Aziza paused and then left the room.

He stared after her replaying the meeting in his mind and cringing at most of what he'd said. If only things had worked out for them. He turned back to the pictures. No crying over broken hopes when there was work to be done.

Joe pulled into the Rangeman parking lot. Shock had begun to fade and sorrow was taking it's place. He remembered going to the hospital when Michelle was born. He was 17 years old and thrilled at becoming an uncle. One look at the little brown haired, brown eyed, squalling, bundle and his heart had turned to mush. She'd grown into a beautiful woman and would now never be married or have her own children. She wouldn't grow old with someone that she loved and who loved her in return. Joe sent a heartfelt prayer of thanks heavenward for having had the time that he did to feel the extreme highs that life could bring. Despite the extreme lows, like today. Life was worth living and he intended to live every moment as though it was his last.

Aziza had promised to drop the pictures and reports by Khari's office. Joe fervently hoped that the other man had spotted whatever he was missing. The faster this bastard was behind bars, the better.

Stephanie was grateful that her day had finally come to an end. Joe had gone saying he'd scheduled an appointment with Khari. She was tempted to call him on his cell phone to ask how the meeting had gone but remembered that he'd planned to stop at his mother's house and to be with his family after the appointment. Just after he'd gone a woman had called begging Stephanie to help her get her son out of jail. Most bail bond offices were closed at this time on a Saturday but Stephanie hadn't been able to resist the woman's fervent pleas. Her fifteen year old son had been jailed under suspicion of drug trafficking and would have had to spend the entire weekend in holding. Stephanie glanced at her watch. Just time to stop at the Italian deli and hurry to join Joe.

Stephanie slung her purse over her shoulder and went out the back entrance turning to lock the door. She always parked her car in the alley behind the business in order to save on street parking for potential clients. She was nearly halfway to the Jeep Cherokee when a the feeling that someone was watching her slid up her spine. Don't look around, she instructed herself, just keep moving. She stood taller and walked faster forcing herself to be calm. She was imagining the feeling. It was just that Mitchie had been murdered and suddenly dark alleys didn't seem the safest place to be hanging out..

There was a sudden noise. Something metal hitting...something metal. There was no time to completely register the noise, Stephanie broke into a run hitting the unlock button on her key ring. She opened the door and jumped up into the SUV. She fell on the key ring accidentally hitting the door lock. Thank God her luck was holding out. Her would be assailant let out an angry roar and, again, metal hit metal as his machete came down on the the top of her car shattering the driver side window and spraying her with glass. Stephanie got a good look at her assailant as the machete was raised again. Not that it did her much good as he was covered from head to toe and wearing black gloves and a ski mask. Her nervous fingers tried to fit the key into the ignition slot and missed it completely. The keys fell to the floorboard and she scooped them up. Stephanie threw herself back in the seat as the machete came through the window.

Stephanie pulled the seat lever hurtling herself backwards and the machete, which would have cut her head off, sliced through her upper arm. As hard as she tried, Stephanie could not hold back a scream of pain. The attackers arm was still in the window as he tried to maneuver the machete in order to extract it from the car. Stephanie jammed her car keys into the attacker's forearm. It was his turn to howl in pain. She'd been pretty sure before but now she knew beyond a doubt that her attacker was male from the depth of his howls. There was blood on the car key but Stephanie couldn't be sure that it wasn't her own. She needed to do some serious damage if she was going to get rid of this asshole. She reached under the seat for her gun.

It was there and unloaded as usual. Stephanie pulled it out quickly and saw the man's blue eyes widen as he spotted the gleaming metal of the handgun. Stephanie threw the gun at his head instead of shooting and he wasn't completely able to dodge the heavy metal object. She just had time when he staggered backward to jam the keys into the ignition. As she spun her tires, the back of the car fishtailed into the man. He fell to the ground and Stephanie raced out of the alley. Both of her shaking hands held the wheel. I'll light a candle everyday, Stephanie promised, if only he doesn't follow me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The cold cement that paved the alley bit into his back. He stared at the stars and wondered where he'd gone wrong. This was God's mission, his work. He could remember nothing of who or what he was before he started his mission. Now he remembered everything. There was a crack in the cement that seemed to bisect his upper thigh. There was a stone under his eight vertebra. He felt everything and everything was important.

He'd been following the woman with the curly brown hair. Her name was Stephanie Plum, her name was emblazoned on a sign above her business, and she held the red light of sin. She was almost never alone so finding his opening hadn't been easy. He was a patient man and his patience had paid off. He'd followed Stephanie Plum to a bar, a sinful place, where she'd met another woman who had carried the red light of sin. A firm believer in seizing whatever opportunity God grants you, he'd followed her instead of resuming his stakeout on Stephanie Plum. Her death was a satisfying feeling to him, a validation of his work. She'd been young and pretty and he'd almost hated to cut her throat but it was work and work was almost never fun.

His mind wandered back to Stephanie Plum, the one who had gotten away. He felt blood seep gently from a wound on his forearm and hoped that he had not been infected with her sin. Sirens filled the air and he calmly stood and brushed himself off. He would look for someone else tonight. Another woman carrying the red light of sin and he would reassure himself of his skills. There was always tomorrow for Stephanie Plum.

Joe leaned against the wall and watched his family. It was amazing. There were people here who were normally at each other's throats, mourning together. That was the way of a family. No matter how much they hated each other they could come together like nobody's business in a tragedy. Roxie sidled up to her cousin's uncle. The two girls had been best friends and inseparable. He remembered the summers when he'd do yard work for his mother and the two girls would bound over asking for ice cream money. They'd both look at him with those big eyes and say, "Pleeease Uncle Joe," and he couldn't have denied them anything. The sorrow Joe felt for himself it was expanded by his sympathy of what the young girl next to him was going through. The normally vivacious twenty-something seemed to be completely deflated. He slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"How you holding up, kid?" he asked hugging her gently. When she looked up her dark eyes were full of unshed tears.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do without her," Roxie said, "Yesterday I thought it was the end of the world that she was marrying that jerk and that I'd never see her because her husband would be taking up all her time. Now I know what the real end of the world is like." She sniffled softly, swiping at her eyes.

"This is the worst part right, Uncle Joe? Each day gets better after this?" she asked, looking younger and more vulnerable than he'd seen her look in a while. There was such hope in her eyes that he knew he'd never lie to her.

"The honest to God truth, Rox, is that I just don't know if it will get better. What I do know is that even the short bit of time we knew Mitchie brought us something that we'll never lose and we should hold on to that," Joe said as the girl buried her face in his shirt. She shook silently for a few minutes before stepping back and letting out an apologetic groan as she viewed the state of his very wet shirt. He didn't care, it was all for a good cause.

"Did you hear?" she asked suddenly.

"Not sure," Joe responded cautiously.

"That asshole, Jerry! He's not going to be at the funeral, he's using the tickets. He says he can't waste that kind of money. To top it off he asked Rita Allise to go with him." Holy fuck, he got over things quick! Joe counseled himself that being an asshole did not make a man a murderer but still made a mental note to get over to talk to Jerry before he took off for whatever the honeymoon destination had been.

"Rita turned him down, of course, but can you believe the fucking nervw? His fiancé, future mother of his demon spawn was killed not two days ago!" Roxie's eyes spit fire. Someone called Roxie's name from the kitchen.

"Thanks, Uncle Joe," she reached up and kissed his cheek before heading for the kitchen. He turned back towards the sitting room waiting for the crowd around his brother and sister-in-law to thin before going over to speak with them. Joe spotted his mother as she leaned to say something in Bella's ear. She stood and spotted him and he waved and smiled. Joe watched his mother as she made her way through the relatives, stopping here or there for a word of encouragement and shared grief from this one or that one. It didn't take her long to get to where he was standing.

"Joseph," she whispered. He leaned down in order to allow her to kiss his cheek, "This has been horrible. The scum who did this..." Angie Morelli couldn't continue. Losing her oldest grandchild had taken a terrible toll.

"I know, Mom," Joe soothed, unsure of what he should say.

"You'll find this man?" she asked, "Maria Pedina told me that you were working the case?" Good old Maria, she worked for the chief and was about a discrete as a billboard on Main Street.

"I've been assigned the case for now, you never know what happens after tomorrow. I don't want you to worry, Mom, I've got this covered. I sent the files to someone that I trust and who can help us. I won't let you down." Angie smiled wanly.

"Whatever happens I want you to be safe," she said, patting his cheek again. He'd always loved how she'd pat his cheek as a child. The soft touch was in direct contrast with the hard and punishing belts that his father gave. There were times that Joe could have sworn that his teeth had come loose.

"I will, Mom. You don't have to worry," Joe experienced a flash of unease hoping he wasn't lying to his mother. When she smiled gently he realized that it really didn't matter. If it made her happy, he would make it the truth. There was a commotion on the other side of the room and Roxie rushed over to him looking a bit wild eyed.

"Uncle Joe, it's Stephanie," Roxie whispered a little too loudly for discretion. His heart felt as though it would race out of his chest as he waited for Roxie to catch her breath and blurt out the next bit of information. "She's been attacked!" A gasp rolled through the room but never registered with Joe who was already running from the house.

Stephanie looked up from the magazine she was shuffling through as her husband raced into the small section of the emergency room that she'd been assigned. She placed her iced coffee on the L-shaped table. Once she'd been sure that the attacker was far behind her, Stephanie had driven straight to the police station. Eddie had driven her to the hospital and called Joe while the doctor stitched the gash in her arm and proclaimed her lucky. The iced coffee had been the only thing really capable of stopping her shaking limbs.

"A little further and it might have hit something vital," the doctor had assured her. Yea, lucky miss, uh-huh...a little further and she would have been missing an arm.

"What happened," Joe asked a little breathlessly and hugged her tightly.

"Some whacko attacked me behind the Bail Bond. He was waiting in the alley," Stephanie said. Joe wasn't listening to her, he was instead examining the bandage on her arm and the cuts and scrapes all over her exposed skin. "He broke the drivers side window and cut my arm with a machete." Joe's eyebrows shot up.

"A machete?" He scrubbed his hands over his face. Joe had been panicked, she could tell. Praying that it wouldn't be the worst but knowing it wasn't the best. Stephanie wished that she'd been able to make the call herself. Eddie had just blurted the news to Roxie, and the poor girl had dropped the phone and rushed to find Joe. Joe had never come to the phone so that she could explain and assure him that she was all right.

"Eddie said that they weren't able to find the guy. How do they not find someone carrying a machete? Not like he can hide it under his coat. And why a machete? Most guys if they're gonna attack carry something that won't cut them off at the knees if they trip on a crack in the sidewalk. Geez, Joe..." Stephanie stopped talking and locked eyes with her husband as she fought against the rising panic. Joe was staring at her with a stunned expression in his chocolate brown eyes.

"Did you get a look at the guy? A good look?" he asked a bit anxiously.

"Of course I got a good look. He..." Stephanie stopped speaking again when Joe pulled a notebook from his pocket. It was THE notebook. This was serious business. She started shaking again. She could very well have been killed tonight! Joe climbed up into the bed with Stephanie and wrapped his arms around his wife. As much as he wanted to question her while the memories were fresh, he needed to be her husband first. He made soothing noises and eventually her nerves calmed again.

"I'm okay," she assured Joe a little shakily.

"Tell me everything you remember," Joe encouraged softly. Stephanie thought for a moment before answering. Geez, this was hard. On the adrenaline rush the guy had seemed eight feet tall and miles wide. Yards of black fabric had seemed to blend together. The shoes had stuck out.

"He had really awful shoes," she began. Joe raised an eyebrow, "No, really, he was wearing these weird brown hiking boots with black dress slacks and a black ribbed turtleneck." Stephanie shivered involuntarily, "Huge fashion disaster."

"But did his ensemble go with his machete?" Joe asked wryly. He was still shaken by Stephanie's attack.

"If you ask me, the machete was probably an extension for something else," Stephanie said dryly. Joe couldn't help but laugh. All the way to the hospital he'd imagined the worst. Stephanie looked a little pale but otherwise she seemed to have weathered the incident well. He was relieved for her. Her relative composure was keeping him together. If she'd been shaken he would have fallen apart trying to help her. One of the many reasons he loved Stephanie, she sure knew how to make the best of a bad situation. Stephanie narrowed her eyes at Joe. the realization crashing down on her.

"You think this is..." she began.

"Yes," Joe said softly, "A machete, every single one of them." Stephanie shuddered and Joe held her tighter as she leaned back into him. They were silent for several minutes.

"I want to nail this bastard, Joe," Stephanie said quietly. Nail him to the wall and cut off something painful...and maybe even that wouldn't be enough.

The nausea was nearly gone and Khari found that he could now look at the photos with relative ease. Relative ease meaning he was able to stay upright in the chair and keep everything in his stomach. Provided he actually hadn't eaten anything. One photo was bothering him and staring at it wasn't making things any clearer. Khari picked the phone up and dialed Joe's cell phone number. When the ringing cut to voice mail he hung up. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation for the bit of blood on which the light of the flash was reflecting. Still the more he stared at the bit of blood it started to resemble something. Khari shuffled back through the pictures and found another one that seemed to also have something reflective in just one round piece of the blood. Bizarre. He looked at the phone again before swallowing his pride and picking up the mouthpiece. Aziza answered up on the second ring.

"I'm looking at the crime scene photos," Khari began. He stopped at Aziza's chuckle.

"No kidding," she said as though she didn't quite believe him. He rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the comment.

"There's something reflecting of the flash in two of the pictures. Something in the blood. Pictures..." he shuffled through the stack, "Victim 1, Picture 3 and Victim 3, Picture 8." He heard Aziza rifling through papers, "The reflective spot almost looks perfectly round. Is that something you normally see in..." Khari stopped speaking at Aziza's sharp intake of breath.

"You're right. Victim 2 didn't have a bead that we found but they are beads. Round glass beads. Victim 1's bead was something that they picked up later in the general area but Victim 3's bead was practically wedged between her partially severed spine and skull. Almost like he wanted us to know that it's there. Holy shit, Khari, it's his calling card. Call Joe. I'm going to run back down to the morgue and see what I can get from the beads," Aziza said excitedly. "You're amazing, Khari." A shot of pleasure rolled through Khari. He was amazing. He savored the moment before answering Aziza.

"Joe is with his family," he said. "I'll come down and if we come up with anything we'll give him a call." Aziza sighed sadly.

"Yea, sorry, I should have remembered. I'll see you when you get to the morgue...and Khari, anything you chuck up you clean up." The phone clicked and Khari smiled. Maybe despite their differences...well, maybe. No reason to hang his hopes. It was time to get to business. If there was anything Khari Kaplan could be when things got down to it, it was all business.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Aziza checked her reflection in the doorway for the fourth time since arriving at the county morgue to meet Khari. She reached a hand up to fluff her partially flattened hair and stopped herself. What the hell was she primping for? This was business! This was Khari! Okay, so the reason that the butterflies were battering the lining of her stomach was because this was Khari. She felt ridiculous as a grown woman even thinking of what they had as a date but during the date she'd spotted Khari's gun and had just reacted. Guns meant violence to her. She'd been old enough to remember soldiers marching with guns in the train stations of the country of her birth. Her family had come to the United States from Libya to escape the cycle of violence, she would never put herself into it voluntarily.

The problem for Aziza was that whenever she saw a gun she was instantly transported to a childhood lived in fear. She'd would never forget the terror of cowering behind trash cans while police beat a young man to death. The streets of Marsa al Burayqah were the home of the vicious Revolutionary Command Council which Qadhafi had put into power after ousting King Idris in 1969. Aziza couldn't remember a time in Libya when it had been safe to walk down the street in the open. Men were forced into military service at 15 years of age and Aziza's family had left the country just before he could be drafted into military service.

It was like banging her head against the wall. Intellectually she knew that Khari was a good and kind man but when she saw the gun she saw the face of evil that once was. After much thought and self analysis she thought that she might be able to get beyond the gun if she knew it was there and knew what it was for. If only they'd been permitted to have a gun in Libya, maybe she wouldn't have been so afraid.

The reaction at the cafe in itself had been a gut reaction from which she'd never really had the chance to backpedal. Khari was a nice guy...one of the good guys. He didn't relish violence and only carried the gun because of the nature of his job...Aziza was almost sure of that. In the months since their "date" she hadn't found anyone that had affected her in the way that Khari had. She fluffed her hair absentmindedly as he walked up to the glass doors. Khari wasn't what you'd call classically good looking. He was tall and strong with rich ebony skin and close cut hair. His nose was a little crooked but, and Aziza could admit that it might be her building Khari and his honor up to herself, he'd grown on Aziza in a big way and now, to her, there was no man more handsome.

She pushed the door open and held it for Khari. He slipped by her brushing her slightly and sending little skitters of excitement up her spine.

"Hi," she said softly. He was shaking slightly. Nervous at being in the morgue. He was adorable. Such a big, strong, guy and he was afraid of dead bodies. Aziza suppressed her smile knowing that it wouldn't be appreciated. She led him to the elevator and he followed slowly.

"Maybe you should bring it up here," he said, stopping short of joining her in the elevator. Aziza smiled and took his hand. Khari allowed himself to be pulled into the elevator.

"You'll be fine, Khari," she said softly not letting go of his hand as she pressed the button for the sub-basement level. Khari wrapped his large hand around her smaller one and their eyes locked as Aziza smiled up at him. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

Joe turned his cell phone back on as he and Stephanie left the hospital and noted the animated envelope on the screen which indicated that he had a message waiting. Joe helped his wife into the car before hitting the button to retrieve his message and dialing his PIN.

_"Hey Joe, Eddie here. Got a hit on the killer MO from down south. Chief wants to see you yesterday."_ Joe groaned. This was the break he'd been hoping for but there was no way he was going to leave Stephanie alone.

Akilah Manchester was on top of the world as she left the hospital and headed for the parking garage. At the end of her 12 hour nursing shift, the hospital director had called her to his office and offered her the position of head nurse in the ER. She had happily accepted and couldn't wait to get home and tell her mother. As a single parent, Akilah had relied on her mom to help with her now fourteen year old son, Jessie, while she'd struggled through nursing school and then finally achieved her goal of landing a position at Trenton General. Akilah had been tempted to call her mother right then and there but she decided instead that this was news to be given in person.

Gianni Lancionne, head of security approached her. Akilah and Gianni had what she thought of as a private relationship. Akilah liked to think that one day Gianni would defy his mother and her reservations about an interracial relationship and get serious with her, but then Akilah had her own mother to deal with. As it stood, they met when they could. Gianni ran up and hugged her.

"Congratulations, baby," he said. "Just heard the good news. I'm so proud of you." Akilah smiled broadly, her braids bounced as she ducked her head.

"Thanks. It was a huge surprise though. I can't believe he picked me!"

"Who's more dedicated than you? You were the only choice, honey. Can you get away tomorrow night? We can go celebrate." Akilah considered Gianni's request and then nodded happily.

"Jess will be fine on his own. That sounds great," Gianni kissed her again, this time on the lips.

"Cool, call me and let me know what time," he said. The radio at his hip crackled and he kissed her again more slowly. "Back to work," he said, leaning his forehead against Akilah's. They shared another lingering kiss before he turned to go.

"Be careful," he called as an afterthought. Akilah laughed. She watched him walk toward the hospital for a moment before turning back to the hospital parking garage. Her feet ached. When she got home she was going to use the foot bath that her mom had gotten her for Christmas. She was deep in thought when she reached the doorway of the stairwell and didn't have time to scream as she was grabbed from behind and pulled back into the shadows behind the bushes that lined the walls of the parking garage.

Her last thoughts as the killer cut her throat were of her son, Jessie, and how she hoped that her mother would raise him to be a good and responsible man.

Stephanie watched the houses of Chambersburg change from semi-detached to detached to...downright affluent.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked Joe suspiciously, half afraid that she already knew the answer.

"I'm taking you to someone that I trust to keep you safe," he said, eyes never leaving the road.

"How long do you intend to leave me in this safe place?" she asked looking around.

"As long as I need to, Cupcake. This guy is after you and I'm gonna make damn sure that he doesn't get you," Joe promised. Stephanie would deny it if asked but the shaky feeling she'd been battling all night needed Joe around to keep it at bay.

"I'd be safe with you," Stephanie said, sharply.

"I need to focus on the case and it's not gonna happen if I'm worrying about you," Joe argued.

"This person must be pretty damn powerful if you're not going to worry about me while I'm with him," Stephanie grumbled.

"I'll still worry about you, Cupcake, I'll just know that the killer isn't going to get you," Joe said as he turned into a driveway. A perverse smile on his face. "And it's not a 'him' it's a her." The door opened and Jeanne Ellen Burrows looking tall, dark and super-cool stepped out onto the portico.

"Oh hell no," Stephanie breathed. Joe smiled. This will be interesting, he thought.

The killer stripped off his gloves and dumped them into the hospital incinerator. He fit in well at the hospital with blood on his clothes and, for once, didn't have to be so careful of who saw him. He'd known that he would find Stephanie Plum at the hospital but when he'd arrived the man that he'd assumed was her husband was with her. Not many people made him nervous but Stephanie Plum's husband was one of them. He had the look and smell of a cop. When they'd left he'd followed them to the parking garage but hadn't been able to get to his car to follow them. No matter, he knew where they lived. He'd just have to wait the husband out. No way was he approaching Stephanie Plum with her man around.

He was leaving the parking garage when fate smiled on him and he saw the red light of sin again. This time it hovered around a beautiful, young, black, woman, shining from a tiny point on her chest and lighting her with a blinding red aura. The woman was stunning with caramel skin and long braids. She was so pretty and young that he wanted to let her live but couldn't. The red light wouldn't allow her to live. This was a mercy killing. The red light would suffocate her. It was with great regret that he pulled her back into the bushes and slit her throat. As always, he was careful to drop the red bead. The red bead would be her redemption.

The psychiatrists hadn't believed him when he'd told them about the red light. The tall one who was always sweating had laughed and told him that people having auras was New Age bullshit, but he knew better. Everyone had an aura that told him what sort of person they were. Travis, for instance, had a beautiful aura that was cool blue and told everyone that he was one with his maker. He'd make the mistake killing his mother. Her aura hadn't been a true red and he'd been deceived. Grandma said it was okay, just the devil playing tricks on him, andthat he shouldn't mind because mama was fast on her way to a rocky road to hell and that he'd probably saved her soul by killing her. He liked that idea, it made him feel good.

He finished washing his hands and arms and stuffed them into his pockets whistling as he headed for the sliding exit doors. He didn't dare let anyone know about the pretty young girl, no doubt they'd find her soon.

The killing had gone so well that he couldn't help but smile. A man in a lab coat smiled and nodded and the killer smiled and nodded back. Despite losing Stephanie Plum again, the night had been a true success. He had helped the beautiful young girl by freeing her. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and his euphoria was marred at the wounds on his palms. The signs of his failure. He had actually been unable to stop Stephanie Plum from gouging his hands with her keys. He stopped walking as the marks started to bleed again and realized the awful truth. They were the stigmata. Stephanie Plum was a sign from God. She would be the end of his quest to godliness. He had the stigmata now and with her death he would be at God's right hand.

Aziza lead Khari to her office and to a table where she had a metal pan arranged with a standing magnifying glass. Khari examined the glass bead. There were gold marks bisecting the bead but otherwise it was fairly normal.

"It's crystal. A good quality," Aziza said informatively. She picked up a photo while Khari continued to examine the bead through the magnifying glass.

"What's it from, do you think?" he asked. Aziza handed him the picture and he glanced at it before doing a double take and stopping cold.

"Holy shit," Khari whispered as he noted the gold marking was actually a cross.

"Exactly," Aziza said, a nervous laugh escaping, "It's a rosary bead."

"So the real question," Khari said as he rubbed his eyes with forefinger and thumb, "Is how to stop a killer who is on a fucking crusade."

Joe and Stephanie watched Jeanne Ellen as she leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers in front of her face. She'd sat quietly while Joe had relayed every bit of information about the killer as it related to Stephanie and then had asked that she allow his wife to stay in her home and under her protection until the killer was caught. Attracting a possible serial killer to her home was a big thing. Joe waited anxiously.

"I'm not sure about this," Jeanne Ellen said slowly. "Basically you're asking me to put the people who rely on me for protection at risk to take care of your wife. Let's bottom line it, Joe, what's in it for me?"

"We have a little money..." Joe began. Jeanne Ellen laughed.

"I'm sorry, Joe, but I have a lot of money. I don't need your money," she said.

"What do you want?" he asked seemingly desperate to get her to agree at any cost. Joe hoped that he and Jeanne Ellen sounded convincing and that Stephanie didn't suspect the real reason he'd brought her to Jeanne Ellen's home In the midst of the horror of Stephanie's attack, Joe remembered the police background report on the first victim mentioning that the deceased had been a friend of Jeanne Ellen Burrows. It was information he'd decided to use to his advantage. Stephanie needed to be a safe haven. She needed the best protection. He had worked with Jeanne Ellen before and knew that she could be trusted to do the job properly. He would give anything to keep his wife safe.

Joe had called Jeanne Ellen from the hospital while Stephanie had been signing the paperwork to be discharged and had quickly explained the situation to the bounty hunter. Joe had insisted that his wife not be told that everything had been pre-arranged. Stephanie hated being told what to do and would balk at Joe taking this upon himself. If she found out he'd deal with whatever anger was aimed at him when the psycho was behind bars.

"The first thing I want is every piece of information you have on this killer. Every document, every picture down to every hint of gossip at the station. I will not take this on without whatever information you have on this person," Jeanne Ellen leaned forward as she spoke.

"I can't," Joe said, balking slightly.

"You will," Jeanne Ellen disagreed, "I also have some rules for your wife's visit at Chez Burrows."

"Which are?" Joe asked, trying hard not to betray how nervous he was.

"You don't come back here until the job is done. The man, if he's been following Stephanie, will know you and can possibly follow you here," she stipulated. Joe started to agree but she held up a hand. "I also want you to limit contact to your cell phone. The line isn't so easily traced." Joe nodded.

"No," Stephanie said.

"No?" Jeanne Ellen questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Think about it, Cupcake," Joe warned. "What she's saying makes sense."

"We don't know that he's been following me, Joe," Stephanie argued. "He attacked me behind the office in the alley. Anyone could have been in that alley. No, Joe, you're over-reacting. I'll be fine." Joe's eyes turned dark as his temper flared.

"And we don't know that he hasn't been following you. I know you saw the pictures, Cupcake. I will do whatever I can to keep you from winding up in one of those crime scene photos. I will ask Jeanne Ellen to lock you in a room if..."

"But I wouldn't do it," Jeanne Ellen interjected coolly, "You stay if you both agree to the rules." Joe started to speak again but she held up a hand and sent him a look that had "shut up" written all over it. "Will you leave us for a moment, Joe?" Jeanne Ellen waited until Joe had left the room before she turned to Stephanie. She leaned foreword slightly in a confidential manner.

"It's not that I'm not grateful, I'd just feel so helpless just sitting here while..." she stopped as her throat tightened.

""We're not just going to sit here." Jeanne Ellen said laughing. Stephanie sat up, more than a little surprised.

"What?" she asked, feeling like a flounder looking for a line.

"With your luck and my skill this guy can be behind bars in no time," Jeanne Ellen said slowly.

"But you said..." Stephanie stammered.

"I know what I said. That was for Joe. If you're not up for this you can head out of the door with him but he's right, he needs to focus, which means he hears nothing about this. The first victim was a dear friend of mine," Jeanne Ellen explained, Stephanie saw a flash of sadness in Jeanne Ellen's expression before she covered it with her customary expressionless gaze. "You understand?"

"Hell, yes" Stephanie agreed. As Jeanne Ellen called Joe back into the room, Stephanie was struck by how different Jeanne Ellen seemed to her from the days that she'd run with Ranger. Joe walked over to the couch and wrapped an arm around his wife.

"I'll stay, Joe," she said softly.

"Thank you, Cupcake," he said, kissing her lightly. "We're going to agree to your terms, Jeanne Ellen."

"You'll have nothing to worry about, Joe, Stephanie is safe here." Jeanne Ellen said. She walked out of the room to give them some privacy for goodbyes.

"You do what you need to do, Joe, I'll be fine here," Stephanie said in a whisper.

"I sure as hell hope so," Joe said, hugging Stephanie tighter. Stephanie smiled over Joe's shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

**TMM - Chapter 6**

Stephanie stood at the window watching her husband's face in the glow from his cell phone. She felt rather than heard Jeanne Ellen come up behind her. She was insane to be staying here. No other option. Clearly and totally insane.

'It's time to get to work," Jeanne Ellen said softly. Stephanie turned around.

"Don't we need to wait for Joe to fax over the..." she stopped speaking when Jeanne Ellen raised an eyebrow. "I know, stupid question." Stephanie waited until Joe pulled away from the curb before turning to follow Jeanne Ellen. They passed through the kitchen and went down into the basement. Jeanne Ellen stopped in front of a keycoded door and punched in a number. She stood back and smiled at Stephanie.

"The nerve center," she proclaimed proudly before she pushed the door open.

Stephanie stepped over the threshold and stopped cold. Wall to wall monitors lined the far side of the room, and three people in wheeled chairs rolled back and forth between keyboards while another person paced behind the chairs watching the screens with an intense concentration that she admired.

"Holy shit," Stephanie swore softly. The person who had been pacing, a slight man with dark skin and dreadlocks, stopped in front of Jeanne Ellen.

"Anything new, Ron?" The bounty hunter asked.

"Nada," Ron said. "We've run the prints that you picked up in the alley. The first set belonged to Ms. Plum. The rest was a jumble. I have the blood running now. We should have the results in..." he checked his watch. "Ten minutes." Jeanne Ellen nodded, satisfied.

"Good," she turned to Stephanie. "Ron, this is Stephanie Plum. Stephanie, meet Ron Elkins. You might call Ron the power behind the image." Ron ducked his head, seemingly embarrassed, before cracking a huge smile.

"And it's true, all of it," he attested. Jeanne Ellen slid next to Ron and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, accentuating the nearly foot difference in height.

"Ron did his undergrad work at Harvard and his doctorate at MIT," Jeanne Ellen explained, "He runs the technical division of my corporation but has kindly granted me his help on this case."

"Nice to meet you," Stephanie said feeling slightly intimidated by the young man's credentials. He couldn't be more than 23 or 24, and had accomplished so much at such a young age. It was a bit daunting. Ron smiled warmly and Stephanie forced herself to relax as she took his hand. Jeanne Ellen moved to stand next to a young woman with pink hair.

"This is Sarah. You may recognize her. I hired her away from Rangeman when Khari took over. She's normally in charge of my home base. She developed a software by which she can slip undetected into any system. She's invaluable when it comes to gleaning information we normally wouldn't be able to touch," Jeanne Ellen said. Sarah smiled and extended her hand to Stephanie.

"I don't think we've ever met before," Stephanie said.

"No, we haven't. Not in person. Nice to meet you, Stephanie," the younger woman said graciously. Jeanne Ellen moved down the line to a young Asian woman who was still typing frantically.

"This is Ji. She monitors the police band across the country. We're watching locally for killings with the same MO and nationally for the same reason. Ji is more or less freelance and a whiz at speed reading and police codes." Ji raised a hand in greeting and grunted. "She doesn't stop for anything." Jeanne Ellen explained laughing. She moved on to the last person. A handsome young man with very light hair and movie star good looks.

"This is Jack Cramer. No pun intended, he's our jack of all trades. Mostly he's been monitoring the crime satellite activity," Jeanne Ellen turned back to Ron as Stephanie mumbled a greeting to Jack and he nodded at her before turning back to the monitors he'd been scanning.

"You've looked over the paperwork that I sent down?" Jeanne Ellen asked making her way to a small round table which held paperwork and pictures that Stephanie remembered having littered her own kitchen table.

"I did. I've got a profiler at the FBI that I see from time to time working something up for me. The first impression is that we have a classic Jack the Ripper copycat without the mutilation. As you know, Jack the Ripper left calling cards with his victims. This killer leaves his calling card in the form of a small red bead. Not significant unless you zoom in on the object. The coroner..." Ron shuffled through the papers until he found what he was looking for, "Aziza Houdra was the coroner on this case. She dismissed the bead as insignificant as it hadn't been found with all the victims. My guess is the reason it wasn't was sloppy police work." He turned to Stephanie, "No offense because I know the lead is your husband but, really, I would bet my right arm that the bead could have been found with all of the bodies. It does mix in with the blood rather well but there's one thing that stands out." Ron picked a close up of the incision off of the table. Stephanie shuddered violently and found her knees buckling. She could have sworn that Ron rolled his eyes as he ran for a chair. He settled her in before continuing.

"If you'll notice," he said, " There are small gold marks forming the shape of the Christian Cross." Jeanne Ellen sucked in a deep breath.

"We're got a religious crusader on our hands," she said.

"Exactly," Ron confirmed.

"But..." Stephanie began. She stopped and blushed when not only Jeanne Ellen and Ron turned to stare at her but so did the people at the monitors.

"Go on," Jeanne Ellen prompted.

"If this is a religious crusader...well...why me?" she asked.

"Honey," Jeanne Ellen said softly. "If this a religious crusader why anyone? This angle makes it impossible for us to predict this killers next move. We have no real connections between any of the victims. If we wanted to stretch we could cite your familial relationship with the third victim. It doesn't play out, Steph."

"So we're never going to catch this guy," Stephanie said feeling a bit deflated. Her natural resentment of Jeanne Ellen had been pushed aside to make way for grudging respect and that was all going away now. Jeanne Ellen smiled as she looked down at Stephanie.

"Whoever said that?" she purred. "Of course we're going to catch him and he'd better start praying now if I happen to catch him alone."

"Boss?" Li called. Jeanne Ellen rushed to her side. "We have a homicide at Trenton General. Word on the police band is that it fits the MO." Jeanne Ellen nodded and turned to Stephanie.

"You came straight from Trenton General with Joe?" she asked.

"Yes," Stephanie answered nervously.

"And you're going back now. If you're a draw then we're drawing this sucker out tonight," Jeanne Ellen said as she pulled Stephanie from a seated position and dragged her from the chair. She turned to Ron.

"Anything you get..." Jeanne Ellen began. Ron stopped her.

"Call you at once," Ron finished. Jeanne Ellen nodded and dragged a stumbling Stephanie behind her as she ran up the stairs.

Joe strolled into the police station determined to get whatever the Chief had for him out of the way so that he could find Khari and look over the evidence. Eddie intercepted him just as he entered the corridor leading to the Chief of Police's office.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Eddie advised. Joe stopped and Eddie leaned back to lounge against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I can handle it, trust me," Joe said. He kept walking down the hallway.

"Fine," Eddie said casually. "Thing is that the boss is gonna take you off the case and I'm gonna give you the perp on a nice little silver platter. Whatever works for you, man." Joe turned slowly and got the see the full impact of Eddie's triumphant smile. Should he hit the man first, or hit him after he got what he wanted out of him? He decided to go for the latter and followed Eddie out into the cubicle area that the detectives called their home away from home. Eddie had been promoted to detective a few months before because of a shortage of warm bodies in the homicide unit. The slightly rounder and shorter man pushed the papers away as he sat at the computer and clicked on his bookmarks. Within seconds a young face appeared on the screen. No way was this kid the man that they were looking for. He was...well, too young for one thing.

"Adam Alan Holmes," Eddie said dramatically. "Formerly of Byron, Georgia just southwest of Macon. He escaped from Central State Hospital for the Criminally Insane about a year ago. He'd killed his mother and gotten himself enough time to never see the light of day again. The local police, for whatever reason, waited two weeks before contacting the grandmother. They found her dead in the basement with her throat slit. There are two homicides with this MO in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Two more, same MO exactly, in Raleigh, North Carolina. In Virginia he got one in Richmond and one in Virginia Beach."

"He was moving north. But why kill three here? Why not continue the pattern and basically do a pass through of the town?" Joe mused aloud.

"You want me to answer that?" Eddie asked. Joe shook himself out of the reverie he'd fallen into as Eddie had numerated the number of deaths.

"There's a big fish here. One he hasn't been able to pull in. She keeps getting off of his hook and he's waiting to finish the job before he moves on," Eddie sat back in the chair.

"Stephanie," Joe whispered. Cold dread seeping through his limbs.

"Maybe not. He failed with her for sure but he was in town a long time before he went after her," Eddie clarified. "It could always be someone else."

"Not making me feel better," Joe said.

"Not trying to make you feel better, buddy," Eddie answered. "I'm trying to face facts." The intercom on Eddie's phone crackled to life.

"Eddie?" a female voice lilted through the intercom. Joe recognized it instantly as that of fellow homicide detective, Cheri Harper. Eddie pressed the intercom button.

"What's up, Cheri?"

"Morelli back there with you?" she asked. Joe glanced at Eddie questioningly. Eddie shrugged and shook his head. Joe learned forward and hit the button.

"I'm here, Cheri," Joe said.

"Thought you'd want to know, Joe, your perp hit again," Cherie said. "Trenton General. The victim has been identified as a nurse who got off work about two hours ago."

"I'm on my way," Joe said before turning to rush toward the exit.

Aziza shifted around so that she was lying full length on one of the sofas in the lobby of the county morgue. She leaned back, exhausted and exasperated. Khari reclined in a chair across from her. She narrowed her eyes to check the clock on the wall and noticed that it was after 1 am.

"You did call Joe, right? He did say he's coming?" she asked no one in particular. No point in asking Khari as the answer was plain...they were still waiting.

"Of course, he's coming," Khari said sounded slightly irritated himself. Khari checked the clock. "It's been less than an hour since I called Joe. He said that he'd call us after his command performance with the Chief of Police. That could take a while." They sat in silence for another moment while Aziza worked up the confidence to say what she'd been wanting to say all night.

"Khari..." she began and then stopped. She closed her eyes. She was a conservative girl. She didn't say forward things to men. What would her mother say? Unfortunately, her mother would tell her that she's not getting any younger and should go for what she can get. Umm (this is really honestly the Arabic word for mother) Houdra had been parading men past her daughter for years hoping that she might find one appealing enough to procreate.

"Yes," Khari said. His bass tone, which was as smooth as melting butter dripping down her spine, wasn't helping matters. Aziza took a fortifying breath.

"Did you ever wonder what might have happened between us if..." Aziza stopped. She couldn't go on. She couldn't stand being so vulnerable but his answer meant more to her than it should have. Khari didn't disappoint.

"It would have been great," he said, his voice slightly dreamy as though this was a subject he'd given a lot of thought. Aziza smiled.

"It would have," she agreed. She sighed deeply again.

"Maybe...if you wanted...and you weren't busy...maybe," Aziza stumbled over her words. They just wouldn't come out properly. She looked over at Khari and he was leaning forward almost begging her to finish. She calmed her nerves and tried again.

"Maybe if you're not busy tomorrow night we could have dinner?" Aziza asked.

"I still carry a gun, Aziza," he said almost too softly to be heard.

"I know, Khari, and I won't claim that it doesn't bother me. I'm going to need some time to get used to seeing a gun on you. Guns make me...well, they mean violence and death, don't they?" Aziza had no idea what power was pushing her forward in this conversation.

"They do," Khari agreed. "Sometimes."

"And maybe if we knew each other better you could understand why I reacted as I did that first time, and why, with your help I can understand," Aziza said. Khari smiled and Aziza felt pure joy.

"I'd love to have dinner with you anytime, Aziza. I have been..." Khari began. He stopped when Aziza's cell phone started to ring.

"Hello," she said. She listened intently for a moment and Khari watched as her expression turned dark. Something was seriously wrong. Aziza's hand started to tremble. "I'll be right there," she said, flipping the phone shut. Khari raised an eyebrow as Aziza worked to steady her nerves.

"They found another body. Akilah Manchester," Aziza said.

"You knew her?" Khari said flatly.

"Yes, she...yes," Aziza confirmed.

"Let's go, I'm driving," Khari said. He took Aziza's hand and lead her through the door. Despite the blood and death at the scene he knew that this once he had to swallow his fear and face it head on. He would fight any personal demon to be by her side on this. Aziza needed him to be with her and he would not let her down.

Adam Holmes stood near the entrance of the hospital. He rarely had the luxury of watching the police work on one of his victims. The whole process was rather interesting. Normally he tried to kill where he'd be long gone before the body was found but this one was unavoidable. He recognized Stephanie Plum's husband...the man who looked like a cop. Clearly he was in change of the scene. Very efficient and good at his job. Adam approved of his work. He pushed a newly dyed lock of chestnut brown hair out of his eyes. His eyes scanned the crowd. A tall black man was pushing through the gathered mob with a small woman with very dark curls at his side. She was pretty. If only he were finished doing God's work he would go over and ask for her number. She was getting too close to the body. If she touched the red light of sin she'd be contaminated and Adam couldn't let that happen. She was young and innocent. Another life could not be wasted.

Adam moved forward on the fringe of the crowd trying to get a better look. Surely he'd know when the pretty dark haired lady touched the vile creature he'd killed. Surely there would be a sign. He noticed as he drew nearer that she had pulled on gloves. He sighed in relief. She would not be touched by the tainted blood of the wicked. She was wise and would be saved. The panic he'd felt drained away and he knew with sudden clarity that the dark curls would be his companion and reward. She would stand with him and understand him and never again would they be touched with sin. Adam moved back into the crowd his eyes never leaving the woman he loved. There would be time for them once the red light of sin was purged and Stephanie Plum was dead.

End Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Jeanne Ellen leaned against the building and watched Aziza work. She had her legs crossed at the feet and was looking super cool wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night.

"How can you see with those sunglasses on?" Stephanie asked wishing she looked half as cool as Jeanne Ellen. A dead body meant a killer had been here and maybe was still here. That shot Stephanie's comfort level all to hell.

"The real question," Jeanne Ellen said, "Is how I'd be able to see without these glasses on. Ron retrofitted my prescription sunglasses so that they're night vision with zoom capability. Here," she took the glasses off and handed them to Stephanie. Stephanie put them on and looked back at Aziza, only to find herself with the sort of detailed view she might not have had if she'd been standing next to Aziza.

"Holy Shit," she said staring at the incision in the victim's neck. Stephanie slipped the glasses off and her hand shook as she handed them back to Jeanne Ellen.

"I need to see if they pull the same calling card off this victim," Jeanne Ellen slipped the glasses back on and leaned back against the building. She watched for a few moments and then stood up straight as though she'd gone into alert mode.

"It's there?" Stephanie asked thrown by the sudden movement. Jeanne Ellen smiled and pulled device out of her pocket.

"No, my PDA went off," she scanned the information for a moment before whooping happily.

"What is it?" Stephanie asked.

"We've got a suspect," She turned the PDA so that Stephanie could see the picture on the screen.

"He looks so young," she said softly.

"He is young, but he's truly insane. We're going to have to be very careful if we want to reel him in," Jeanne Ellen started typing rapidly into her PDA. "I'm asking Sarah to hi-jack the security cameras in this area and to send me the feed on the PDA. We can't be sure that he's still around but I've got a feeling..." she trailed off.

"So we should keep an eye out for him and let Joe know..." Stephanie began.

"No, we should keep an eye out and stick to the plan. If he sees Joe he's going to run. We don't want him running away," Jeanne Ellen explained.

"What is the plan? I'm pretty sure I wasn't here when we discussed a plan," Stephanie asked, suddenly testy. They were talking about her life here! Jeanne Ellen stopped typing and stared at her for a moment.

"It's probably best if you don't know," she said finally.

"But..." Stephanie began. Jeanne Ellen stopped her.

"You're never for one moment going to be in real danger, I can tell you that," Jeanne Ellen promised.

"How can you know that? You don't know what he's going to do." Stephanie asked, getting increasingly more agitated. For God's sakes, she wasn't some sacrificial lamb! Jeanne Ellen looked up from the PDA again and looked Stephanie straight in the eye.

"I don't know him and I can't speak for him but I do know me," Jeanne Ellen said before slipping the sunglasses on and leaning back against the building.

Joe knelt next to Aziza. He could tell that she was trying hard to keep it in, but her hands had been trembling so much she'd barely gotten the gloves on.

"Old friend," Khari said by way of explanation. Joe felt for Aziza. He genuinely liked her and remembered what it had been like for him when confronted with such a brutal death of a loved one. Joe wrapped an arm around Aziza's shoulder.

"Take as long as you need," he whispered into her ear. She nodded. Joe squeezed her shoulder and then stood.

"She didn't have to do this," he said to Khari in a low voice.

"I told her that we should call someone else but she insisted that she wanted to make sure that Akilah was treated with the dignity and respect she deserves. She didn't want her treated like just another body in a serial killing case," Khari said. He'd clearly tried his best to talk Aziza out of coming to the scene.

"You'll stick around?" Joe asked. Khari stood up to his full height, an impressive 6 feet and 6 inches.

"I'll be here as long as she needs me," Khari answered a bit defensively. Joe wondered if the two of them had finally gotten their act together and stopped dancing around their attraction. If they had he was happy for them. Aziza and Khari would be good for each other.

"Good. I'm going to check on the people being questioned," Joe said. There was a moment of hesitation in Khari's expression. He clearly wanted to go with Joe but held himself back.

"Let me know what you find out?" he asked finally. Joe nodded.

"Of course," he said. Khari kneeled next to Aziza and Joe turned to walk away when he spotted her.

"Shit!" he swore. It couldn't be her...what was she doing here? Khari jumped up ready to strike.

"What?" he said looking around and clearly not seeing a threat.

"Jeanne Ellen," Joe said coldly. He gestured to the tall brunette leaning against the red brick hospital wall. Khari shrugged.

"So?" he asked, clearly not seeing the significance. Joe could not remember ever having been more irritated...and that was saying something.

"She's supposed to be protecting Stephanie! Where's Stephanie while she's checking out the scene?" Joe asked pushing a hand through his dark hair.

"What are you talking about, man?" Khari asked. "Isn't that Stephanie with her?" Joe looked slightly to the right. If he'd been a weaker man he'd have been out cold. What the hell was Stephanie doing here? Jeanne Ellen thought that this was a good idea? He couldn't imagine what she was playing at and immediately changed his plan to make finding out a priority.

Adam Holmes had been moving slowly along the edge of the crowd. He knew that he should leave but he couldn't take his eyes off his sable haired beauty. She seemed very distressed. She must see the red light of sin too. Happiness soared. He and the dark haired woman were truly soulmates. He started to leave again but saw Stephanie Plum's cop kneel down to take the shaking woman in his arms. Adam's rage pushed him toward the duo. How dare the cop put his hands on her! She was marked for a higher purpose and he could not let some dirty minded cop put his grubby hands on her. Just as he reached the edge of the crowd the cop stood and started talking to the tall black man. Clearly the pure angel had repelled his advances.

The dark haired woman would love only him. He closed his eyes. They would have lots of babies with dark hair like hers and light eyes like his. They would live in his grandmother's house and his angel would bake cookies and raise their children to be the future leaders of God's Army.

The cop stormed toward Adam and panic caused him to shrink into the crowd. Stephanie Plum's husband stormed past the crowd to the hospital, where he stopped and was yelling at someone. Adam couldn't hear what was being said. He slipped through the crowd until he could see the cop and his companion clearly. God was surely smiling on him. The cop was yelling at Stephanie Plum. Truly it would be over tonight and the reward would follow.

Aziza kneeled over her old friend. What would she tell Akilah's mother? Her son? This was wrong. Akilah was so young. She had her whole life ahead of her. Aziza took a deep breath to steady herself and then went to work. Akilah's murder was a perfect match for the others but it couldn't be written off as part of a serial killing until that tiny little bead was found. Aziza was very careful not to look at Akilah's face as she probed the incision. She could not contaminate the crime scene with her tears. It only took a moment to find the bead embedded in uncut tissue near the spine. There was something different about this one.

"He didn't rush this one," she said softly. "He rushed the others but there was no sense of urgency here. He's more confident now."

"Which makes it more important that we find him now," Khari said. His voice startled Aziza. She had forgotten that he was there.

"Yes," she said nervously. She'd expected things to be easier now that they'd set things straight but if anything she was more nervous. Khari held the bag for her and she inserted the rosary bead.

"Joe and I, we'll work together and get this guy," Khari said. Aziza believed him. It wasn't that she didn't. It was just that this was Akilah. The Akilah with whom she'd had tea parties and talked boys and smoked cigarettes in the girl's restroom at school. The Akilah she'd cried with when she found out that she was pregnant and celebrated with when she was accepted to nursing school. They had been lifelong friends and now one of them had died. Aziza couldn't stay. The grief was overwhelming. She stood.

"I'm done here. Let's get this bead to Joe," she said. She turned to one of the officers. "The forensic guys can finish the scene and then send me the body." The man nodded.

"I'll take you home," Khari promised. "You could use a bubble bath and..." He stopped clearly not knowing what to say and followed her silently.

He wasn't close enough to help her when she was grabbed from behind and held at knifepoint.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Joe said. His jaw was locked and his stance tense. Stephanie couldn't say anything. She'd never seen Joe so angry. Jeanne Ellen stepped forward.

"And you! We had a deal!" he said, his voice eerily calm as he turned on Jeanne Ellen. Joe was a brave man. Normally Stephanie would bet he could take anyone but she wasn't sure he could take Jeanne Ellen Burrows.

"I'm keeping my end of the deal," Jeanne Ellen said calmly. "Your wife is perfectly safe. I never said that I'd keep her locked in a tower, Joe."

"But I trusted you," Joe said softly.

"Because you know me so well?" Jeanne Ellen countered. "You trust me because you know my work and my work has yet to come into question. Do what you have to do and leave Stephanie with me. You brought her to me because you couldn't have complete focus on your job and offer her the security the she needs. You do your job. I have this covered."

"You're the one bringing attention to us right now," Stephanie added looking around nervously and scanning every face to see if she recognized the one from the picture.

"Dammit Cupcake!" Joe said. His voice was even but his worry was clear. "I can't take this. I can't take the chance that you'll be lucky yet again! The longer you're out here the more likely something is to happen. Go home. Go back to Jeanne Ellen's! Go anywhere but here. You can't be here, Steph!" She looked away feeling a bit guilty. Aziza was walking toward them. Stephanie averted her gaze to the crowd and stared straight into a familiar face.

"Oh my God," she said softly. Joe was talking again but she didn't register a word that he said. Someone must have said something to him because the noise abruptly stopped and Stephanie shook herself out of the shocked silence.

"It's him," she said softly before repeating the words in a scream. The young man jumped into action running straight for Stephanie, a long and very ugly looking knife in his hand. Jeanne Ellen jumped in front of Stephanie blocking her view. Joe yelled for police assistance. All Stephanie could see was the back of Jeanne Ellen's leather jacket and then suddenly everyone went silent.

"I'll kill her!" a male voice yelled, "I'll slice her throat. No one come any nearer!" Stephanie peered around Jeanne Ellen's side to see the killer with Aziza in a grip across the chest with the knife to her throat. Stephanie glanced at Khari who was clearly fighting the need to pounce. Stephanie turned her attention back to Aziza and the killer.

"What do you want?" Joe asked, his voice tight. The young man smiled.

"Funny you should ask because you're the person who can give me what I want," he said. "What I want is Stephanie Plum. Give her to me and this woman can walk away unharmed. You have one hour." The killer moved one step to the right and he and Aziza disappeared completely.


	8. Chapter 8

**Note: This is the last completed chapter that I have for this story. There will only be two to three more chapters and a series epilogue (of sorts). I have started doing another exercise and also writing the next chapter of this story so I hope to have it up by next weekend. Please bear with me. It's been a while. Thank you for reading and for the feedback you've given. Lex**

**Chapter 8**

The moment Aziza and Adam disappeared everyone fell completely silent.. The police and forensic team looked to Joe, the ranking detective at the scene, for guidance. Khari stood stock still filled with a white hot rage. How dare that little bastard hold a knife to Aziza!

Joe took advantage of the silence to step forward and examine the ground where Aziza and Adam had disappeared. He waved Khari over.

"Check it out," he said, pointing at the cement door. "No hinges. It opens inward," Joe looked up at a man in a white lab coat just beyond the police tape. "Where does this go?" One of the younger officers lifted the tape to allow the man a closer look at the door. The nametag on his white lab coat gave his name as "Dr. Sabino Anjou." Khari recognized him as the hospital's director.

"There's a tunnel between the hospital and parking structure that's only open when there's snow on the ground," the doctor responded. "Both exits are padlocked in good weather."

"So they're trapped down there?" Jeanne Ellen asked rhetorically. She turned to the doctor. "Where can we get a schematic of the tunnel?" He shrugged.

"It would take some time..." Dr. Anjou began.

"I can get it quicker," she said, flipping open her cell phone.

"In the meantime," Joe suggested. "We need to call in a hostage negotiator." He pointed to the young officer who had lifted the tape for Dr. Anjou. The officer nodded and walked away talking into his radio.

"We don't even know how to get in touch with him," Khari observed.

"Don't most places have an intercom loudspeaker sort of deal? And wouldn't they be able to hear it in the tunnel?" Stephanie asked.

"Well, yes. There are speakers in the tunnel," he confirmed. "It will take some time to change the system configuration but we can get a two way intercom up and running. I can get the security people right on it."

"Do it," Joe ordered. "For now we wait for the negotiator. We don't want to take too many steps until we have someone trained for this sort of thing. Under no circumstances do we want to risk Dr. Houdra's safety."

Khari prayed that Aziza was still alive as he followed the doctor, Joe, Jeanne Ellen and Stephanie into the hospital.

Aziza and her attacker fell into complete darkness. When their bodies hit the cement floor, pain flowed through her. Something soft brushed her leg and she stifled the urge to scream. She and the attacker had fallen apart and if she could just stay calm she might be able to get away from him in the darkness. Her hopes were dashed a moment later when she heard a soft click and was momentarily blinded by the light which flooded the area. A hand brushed her shoulder and she crab crawled away until she hit a wall.

"Are you okay?" asked a soft, male, voice with a light southern twang. Aziza blinked rapidly until her vision cleared. He was younger than she thought he'd be. His hair was a rich shade of brown and one wave fell into his eyes. He was an Eagle Scout type. She could see him helping old women across the street and romping with the neighborhood children...until she looked in his eyes. The strange light in his eyes scared her and told her that something within him just wasn't right. He extended a hand to help her up. The movement seemed so natural and his expression so sincere that she had to remind herself that this was the man who had threatened her life only moments earlier.

"W-who are you?" Aziza asked, she wished the wall that she was pressing herself against would open and swallow her. He smiled and knelt down.

"I'm Adam and you are my Eve. We are the parents of a new generation." Aziza couldn't stop the gasp that rushed from her lips. She'd known he was insane but to have it spelled out for her like that was completely unnerving.

'W-what?" she'd tried not to speak but the word slipped past her lips. Adam reached for her hand and she slid it behind her back. Aziza knew that her fragile hold on hysteria could only be maintained if he didn't touch her.

"I know that you must be overwhelmed. I have always known that my life served a higher purpose so I have had time to adjust. Don't be afraid, Eve, you're one of the honored few." Adam said. "God, in his wisdom, lead me on this mission to my true destiny."

"Your mission?" Aziza asked. Keep him talking, she thought. Adam smiled again. He looked like a freaking choir boy.

"To extinguish the red light of sin," he explained. That cleared up nothing for Aziza. Adam went on, "And to do that, I must kill Stephanie Plum."

Khari was going to blow a fuse. Everyone was running around...everyone except Jeanne Ellen who was still typing into her PDA...and no one was actually getting anything done. He was not the official presence here but this concerned him as much as anyone else. Though he hadn't spent a great deal of time with Aziza he cared for her in a way that he couldn't quite define. He cared for what they could be together and what he knew they could one day mean to each other. It was time to take charge. He pulled himself up to his full and impressive height and plowed his way over to Joe Morelli.

"So you're telling me that unless we take the very dangerous step of engaging heavy machinery we're not getting them out of that tunnel unless Holmes comes out?" Joe asked. The Security Manager considered his question and then nodded.

"That's about it," he agreed. Joe said something that sounded a lot like cursing in another language. Jeanne Ellen strode over still typing into her PDA.

"My people have yet to find any structural weakness in the tunnel. We're working on a location for Holmes and Dr. Houdra. We'll have a heat read shortly," she said. Khari considered smashing something.

"Thanks, Jeanne Ellen," Joe said. Stephanie approached on his other side bearing a cup of coffee.

"It's time to bring my people in, Joe," Khari said. He kept his voice even but knew that his expression relayed how serious this matter was for him.

"MY people are doing a damn good job. We don't need you bringing in your cowboys," Jeanne Ellen said, bristling.

"I didn't suggest that your people were incompetent but I'm betting my people can have this wrapped up in..." Khari began. Jeanne Ellen cut him off.

"Would that be the murderous blonde or the guy who liked to cut people up? Oh wait, maybe you were figuring on calling in the horndog who liked to..." Jeanne Ellen said. It was Khari's turn to stop the verbal train.

"I would suggest that you stop right there," he warned.

"Both of you stop," Stephanie interjected. "This is just wasting time. The best way we're going to get this done is to work as a team. Jeanne Ellen, you use whatever resources you have and, Khari, if you think that your men can help, bring them on." She turned to her husband, "What about air vents? That tunnel has to have some sort of ventilation, right?"

"None we can traverse without shredding our people or suffocating Holmes and Aziza," Joe said.

"Excuse me," Dr. Anjou appeared at Joe's elbow. " The intercom is online and ready for you and your hostage negotiator has arrived." Establishing contact with Holmes was the priority. They all followed Dr. Anjou to the reception area, all of them formulating their own plans to free Aziza.

"You must think I'm insane," Adam said sheepishly. He couldn't help but notice how his Eve winced when he spoke. Poor girl. How could she know he'd never hurt her? He sat cross-legged on the dirty cement floor, as close to her as he dared. He understood her fear but knew that once she understood she'd be fine. He pushed the lock of hair off his forehead again. After they were free she would shave his head as his mother used to do when she was alive. Maybe if she knew about his mission. He reached a hand out to her and she shrank back again. Adam didn't mind. She needed time. They would have ample time before the cop saw that he was without options and turned over Stephanie Plum. Surely he would know that Eve's life was much more valuable.

"Eve..." he began. She jumped slightly as he broke the silence.

"My name is Aziza," she said softly. He smiled in the way that his doctor had so many times. A comforting and indulgent smile as though they were speaking to a small child rather than one of God's chosen.

"May I call you Eve?" he asked politely. She nodded. Easy acceptance, she was truly a treasure.

"Eve, would you like to know how I came to know my calling?" he asked. "It may bring you to understand your true purpose." Adam took her motionlessness as acceptance.

"I was lucky," he began. "My grandmother tells me that she knew that I was meant for greater things while in the womb. My mother was an unprincipled whore and my birth nearly killed her. She was only spared because of her willingness to bring one of God's chosen to earth. If only I had known that she was meant to live..." recalling his mistake was too much. He stopped himself.

"What happened to her?" Eve asked.

"I was young and unsure. I believed my grandmother when she told me that my mother carried the red light. I didn't realize until later..." Adam stopped again and he watched as understanding dawned.

"You killed her," his Eve said flatly.

"My grandmother has since paid for the mistake," he added. He didn't have to elaborate. A loud doorbell like chime sounded in the tunnel causing Adam and Aziza to jump.

"This is the police," a voice that Adam recognized as the cop's boomed. "We want to help you but we have to know that Dr. Houdra is unharmed. Use the intercom. We will hear your demands once we've spoken with Dr. Houdra."

"Time to end this," Adam said as he stood and brushed the dirt from his slacks.

Just above Adam and Aziza, Jeanne Ellen was hatching a plan.

"I want them here and the job done before Rangeman shows or Morelli gets a clue," she typed. She glanced up to see the police in the reception area playing with the intercom. Waste of time. What they needed was action. She glanced at the screen and couldn't help but smile as she read.

"They're as good as there, Boss."

Jeanne Ellen rushed into the hospital and found Stephanie. The body outside had been taken away and people were milling around collecting evidence. Everyone else was gathered around the reception desk listening to the dialogue between Joe and the suspect. Stephanie glanced at Jeanne Ellen and the bounty hunter waved her over.

"I need to talk to you," Jeanne Ellen mouthed. She watched as Stephanie whispered in Joe's ear. He nodded and she walked over to the bounty hunter. Stephanie wasn't able to get a word out before Jeanne Ellen pulled her into the ladies restroom.

"You've figured something out," Stephanie said, leaning against the sink.

"I think the best thing we can do is to give him what he wants," Jeanne Ellen said watching as shock rolled across Stephanie's features.

"How do you propose to do that?" Stephanie asked calmly.

"Give him what he wants," Jeanne Ellen said blithely. "I'm going to kill you."


End file.
